Chapter 556 - 486: Mourinho
Early in the morning, Chen Yu drove Lexi to the clinic.
He wasn’t driving his little sports car, but a minivan. He would need a more spacious vehicle like this once they had kids.
The car arrived at the clinic.
Reporters were still crowded on both sides of the clinic’s iron gate.
Seeing the car approach, the resourceful reporters naturally knew whose it was. They could even see who was driving through the windshield, but not a single one of them came forward.
"Why aren’t you going up to interview him?" In the crowd of reporters, a middle-aged man with a side part asked the reporter next to him in accented English.
The reporter who was asked pursed his lips. "It’s no use. He won’t do an interview."
The middle-aged man asked, puzzled, "Then why do you guys still camp out here every day?"
You can’t get an interview, yet you’re here on time every day?
The reporter gave the middle-aged man another look. "You don’t get it. We’re waiting. Waiting for him to announce news to us himself. Of course, that rarely happens, but you can rest assured that whenever he does announce something, it’s always a firsthand scoop."
"Besides, we’re mainly here to see who comes to the clinic, who’s looking for him. If someone shows up, it means they’re injured, and that could be a huge story."
"By the way, which paper are you with?"
He watched the middle-aged man warily. The guy had been wandering around, asking questions.
The middle-aged man smiled. "I’m a reporter for ’A Bola’."
The reporter frowned, having no idea what kind of media outlet that was.
Meanwhile, inside the car, Chen Yu, who was waiting for the gate to open, glanced over the crowd of reporters, and his eyes also landed on this middle-aged man.
’He looks a little familiar.’
He stared for a few more moments until Lexi reminded him to drive, at which point Chen Yu started the car again and drove into the clinic.
After the game yesterday, Popovich had called Chen Yu.
He said the arena’s air conditioning had broken down yesterday, and Duncan had played for 41 minutes, which was extremely taxing on his body. He asked if Chen Yu could help Duncan recover.
His words were very sincere, especially when he mentioned how good Chen Yu and Duncan’s relationship was and how he was worried Duncan would get injured.
He was playing the friendship card.
But Chen Yu still refused.
He’d listen to what the man had to say, but that was it. He would do as he saw fit.
They were in the Western Conference Finals. Aside from his own team, Chen Yu wouldn’t help any other.
As for Duncan, their relationship wasn’t as good as Popovich made it out to be. They were just acquaintances.
People like Hill and Tracy McGrady were the ones Chen Yu considered friends.
’I didn’t even help them, so what reason would I have to help you, Duncan?’
After quickly handling some routine matters, he also checked in on Jamie’s situation. His cartilage regeneration project had made some breakthroughs recently.
Only then did Chen Yu begin to see his scheduled patients for the day.
Whenever he had time, Chen Yu would continue to take on new patients.
This was his source of system experience; he couldn’t let it stop.
"Next." He instructed the nurse to arrange for the previous patient’s admission. The people who could afford to spend a fortune to see Dr. Chen almost all had serious or complex illnesses, so they usually required hospitalization.
Soon, the nurse led a middle-aged man into the consultation room.
Seeing the man, Chen Yu was slightly taken aback.
’Isn’t this the same middle-aged man I noticed outside the clinic earlier?’
Chen Yu glanced at the appointment sheet.
Ze Mario, Portuguese, chief complaint of radiating back pain.
Chen Yu frowned slightly but maintained a neutral expression as he motioned for him to sit down.
The man’s gaze was a bit shifty, and he held his lower back, complaining that it hurt.
Chen Yu found it privately amusing. ’I wonder what he’s really up to.’
But since the man wanted to put on a show, Chen Yu was happy to play along.
"Lie face down."
Chen Yu pointed to the treatment table.
The middle-aged man didn’t waste any words and immediately lay down.
Chen Yu placed his hands on him and said, "You’re paying out of pocket, right? Your condition isn’t serious, just a common strain. Do you want medication, or should I treat it for you right now? The treatment is very expensive."
"How expensive is ’very expensive’?" he asked, turning his head.
Chen Yu glanced at him. "One physical therapy massage session is eight thousand US dollars."
The man’s pupils contracted. He stared at Chen Yu for a full five seconds, suspecting that Chen Yu was doing this on purpose.
"Why is it so expensive?" he asked cautiously.
Chen Yu said, "It’s always been this price. You can ask the other patients. It’s just that their insurance covers a portion of it, so they only have to pay about sixty percent themselves."
As a private clinic, even with insurance, the reimbursement rate was very low.
Of course, most of his clients were wealthy and didn’t mind the cost.
The middle-aged man was secretly astonished. Sixty percent was still almost five thousand US dollars.
"What about medication?" His voice was a few notches quieter.
Chen Yu smiled. "That’s simple. You can just go to the nearest CVS, spend a few US dollars on a big bottle of painkillers, and take them as directed."
The corner of the middle-aged man’s eye twitched violently. Finally, he said, "Then let’s just treat it now."
Chen Yu nodded and began immediately.
He didn’t even use the system’s effects; the bonus from his Advanced Massage Techniques was more than enough.
Eight thousand US dollars wasn’t enough to warrant Chen Yu using a therapeutic effect.
The effect was instantaneous.
As Chen Yu’s hands moved, the middle-aged man, who had been lying quietly, felt his pupils contract again in shock.
He felt as if Chen Yu’s hands possessed some kind of magic. It was like they were passing through his skin, combing through his back muscles like a comb. Wherever they passed, the faint pain, numbness, and stiffness in his back were instantly replaced by a warm, relaxing sensation.
He had never felt his back so light and comfortable.
About ten minutes later, just as the middle-aged man was so comfortable he was about to fall asleep, Chen Yu clapped him on the back, finishing the treatment.
"Alright, get up and see how you feel."
Chen Yu sat back down and began filling out the medical chart.
The middle-aged man got up, twisted his back, and his eyes were filled with utter shock.
’This massage is terrifyingly effective!’
He sat down dazedly in front of Chen Yu, his eyes still brimming with astonishment.
Chen Yu quickly finished the chart, pushed the keyboard aside, and leaned back in his chair. "Alright, Mr. Mourinho, are you ready to tell me your real purpose for being here?"
The middle-aged man—or rather, Jose Mourinho—was stunned. He blurted out, "You recognized me."
Chen Yu pressed the call button to have a nurse bring in two cups of coffee. Then he said, "I do follow the Champions League."
Chen Yu had recognized him earlier, outside the gate.
This relatively unknown manager had led Porto on a dark horse run, and media all over Europe were asking one question: who the hell is this guy?
So Chen Yu had an impression of him.
He hadn’t even disguised himself, just showed up swaggering like that. ’He probably really thinks he’s still a nobody.’
After the nurse brought the coffee, Mourinho had also calmed down. He thought for a moment and asked, "Then why didn’t you expose me earlier?"
Chen Yu tapped the appointment sheet. "You made an appointment to see a doctor. Why would I expose you?"
’Come to think of it, this guy made his appointment on April 10th. That must have been right after the Real Madrid versus Monaco match.’
’It seems he became curious about me back then.’
"Dr. Chen, I think I finally understand why Deschamps accused Real Madrid of cheating," Mourinho said with a wry smile.
The news about Deschamps’s accusations had been a hot topic for several days, and he had been following the story.
Afterward, he became interested in Chen Yu.
Mourinho couldn’t figure out what kind of massage could adjust a player’s condition to the point that it would make Deschamps lodge such a public complaint.
Now, he understood.
’This is fucking cheating!’
When he thought about the rumors of Real Madrid coming to the United States, Mourinho’s heart sank.
The second-to-last round of La Liga had just ended yesterday. In a crucial match, Real Madrid had relied on a goal from Ronaldo to secure the La Liga title with one game to spare.
Under these circumstances, Real Madrid had only one goal left: the Champions League title.
Competing on multiple fronts, Real Madrid was actually already very fatigued.
Meanwhile, in the Portuguese Super League, the season had also officially ended yesterday.
In the final round, because they had a comfortable lead in points, Mourinho had deliberately rested his key players. This way, they could rest for almost ten days, allowing them to face the Champions League final in peak condition, well-rested against a weary opponent.
But if Real Madrid made a trip to the United States to get a physical therapy massage from Chen Yu, with this kind of effect, all their fatigue would be wiped away.
’If this isn’t cheating, what is?’
Chen Yu smiled and said nothing.
’Deschamps’s accusation went nowhere. So, is Mourinho here to gather evidence?’
The man was smart and probably guessed what Chen Yu was thinking. He gave a wry smile and said, "Dr. Chen, rest assured, I won’t say a thing. The fact that Real Madrid was able to find you to help them recover is a skill in itself."
There are so many teams in the world of football. Why was Real Madrid able to do it? Wasn’t it because of Ronaldo?
He has that connection, and you don’t. Who can you blame?
So, Mourinho wouldn’t complain about the unfairness of the situation. Besides, he couldn’t afford to complain.
’Complain to FIFA and have them investigate their own people? That would be a joke!’
After a pause, Mourinho said, "But Dr. Chen, since you had already recognized me, why did you reveal it later? You could have just pretended you didn’t know."
He had come secretly and used a fake name; Chen Yu could have easily pretended not to know.
Chen Yu thought, ’You already know the answer, yet you’re still asking me.’
"It’s nothing. I just suddenly felt like talking with you. Come on, I imagine you must be very curious about my clinic." Chen Yu finished the last of his coffee, stood up, and invited him to tour the clinic.
Every manager who came here inevitably ended up taking a tour.
He led Mourinho toward the rehabilitation center.
In truth, if Mourinho hadn’t said anything, Chen Yu wouldn’t have exposed him.
But he had suddenly remembered a piece of news.
It was news from Europe. It said that Chelsea’s owner, Abramovich, had mentioned Mourinho in an interview after Chelsea was knocked out of the Champions League, showering him with praise.
The media interpreted this as a sign that Mourinho might be heading to the Premier League to become Chelsea’s manager.
If that came true, then in the future, if Chen Yu wanted to expand his business to include Chelsea as a client, he would inevitably have to deal with their manager.
So, giving Mourinho a tour in advance and letting him witness his skills firsthand was, in a way, a business pitch for his company.